


Hot Mess (dramione au)

by wonderstrucked



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, F/M, Feltson - Freeform, Jealousy, Modern AU, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 11:12:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14693013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderstrucked/pseuds/wonderstrucked
Summary: Draco Malfoy & Hermione Granger have always been the talk of the town gracing the covers of Witch Weekly every now and then. Well, you can't blame them for being famous in their mid-twenties not to mention both are the most sought after bachelor and bachelorette in the wizarding world. Rumors about their love lives are constantly swirling and both don't give a damn about it. They jump from relationship to relationship, sleep with whomever they want and they don't even bother hiding it. But they're also competitive with each other.A friendly wager turns into a dangerous competition that could result in the most painful title of all: love.





	1. Dangerous

Her smile was dangerous.

There was a secret in the corner of her lips, a slight upturn to their plumpness, which suggested she's always a few steps ahead of you; and the truth is, she is. She has a quality that not many individuals possess. It's sort of like a magnetic pull in the most toxic ways. When she's into something, she's completely in. It's both the best and worst thing about her.

Hermione Granger has the ability to make you feel like you're the most important person in the room. It was a craft that no one else had ever been able to perfect as far as I know. Even if you didn't want to, you'd find yourself opening up to her because she seemed genuinely interested in everything you'd have to say. She'd remember you until the end of her days; your face, your name and your story. She's good at making you feel like you're worth something to her. She's good at managing people.

People wanted to be managed by her, too. They went out of their way to meet her in every possible way. Wizards and witches alike would follow her around wherever she went. She enjoyed the attention. She enjoyed the adoration. She enjoyed being in everyone's mouths. She flourished in the limelight and these individuals would do anything to bask in her light even for a brief second.

Which is what's happening right now at the annual Winter Ball.

She was standing in the center of the room, her head inclined a little and cocked to the right as she looked up at the large decorative Christmas tree. She wore a simple floor length silver gown accented with a pair of white elbow length opera gloves. She held her champagne flute elegantly, though the beverage seemed to be untouched by her red coated lips. Her brown eyes were focused on the tree, but the moment when someone stood beside her, she turned her gaze to them and it was like she lit up. She smiled widely and warmly, her body language echoed some kind of welcome.

I watched from where I was situated at the bar as she listened to an old man speak about something. I couldn't determine what the topic was about. The enraptured look on Hermione's face wasn't a decent indicator whether it was actually interesting or not. 

I lift the small glass of shot to my lips and took a sip as her tinkling laugh carried across the grand room to my ears. My eyes never left her as she set a hand on the man's arm gently and then pasted on that dangerous smile. I knocked back the rest of my drink and set the glass on the bar indicating I wanted a refill just as Blaise appeared next to me.

He followed my line of sight and sighed, "Mate, what are you doing?"

"People watching."

"Hermione Granger watching," he corrected. I merely shrugged and lifted my drink to my lips again.

"You can't go there," he scolded.

"And why the hell not?"

"Because her reputation's just as bad as yours if not, even worse probably."

Hermione Granger and I were both notorious for our inability - or in my case, desire - to maintain a relationship longer than a few months at most. I was labeled a heartbreaker, or in a more uncaring light, a womanizer. She was labeled a whore, but Hermione didn't seem to mind too much or perhaps she had once minded so much that she gave up trying to fight it. 

"I think I'll go talk to her," I stated nonchalantly suddenly before downing my fifth scotch of the night.

"Uh, I don't think so." Blaise grabbed my arm as I pushed myself away from the bar and stumbled slightly. "You're gonna get in the car and go back to your flat and sleep off this drunken stupidity."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because, if you go talk to Hermione bleeding Granger, you're going to end up in bed with her and that's the last thing we need right now," his tone caused me to try and actually look at him through my alcohol induced vision and I sighed heavily, my head swimming around and the lights blurring together. He's right. We don't need that kind of publicity as of this moment. A break from drama and rumors would be nice and me chatting up with Granger wouldn't bring anything but drama and rumors. 

I dragged my hand across my face and rubbed my eyes tiredly before nodding and conceding.

Blaise clapped me on the back, "Atta boy, Drakie. Come on, let's find you a car. I wouldn't want to risk you having to apparate in this kind of state. 

"Nah, I can get it myself. Don't need you babysitting me, go have fun. Make sure Theo doesn't get too much in trouble," Blaise looked at me a bit longer as if to assess whether or not I'm actually capable of getting myself a ride. He seemed to deem me responsible enough and clapped on the back once more before heading off to find Theo.

I looked back to where Hermione had been previously, but she wasn't there anymore. The area seemed dimmer without her there. I shook my head at my drunken thoughts and made my way to the coat check.

Once I had my coat, I stepped outside into the chilly air and waited for my ride to arrive. The wind wasn't as biting or vicious as it would be, but it was still cold enough to bring redness to my cheeks. I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my coat and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. I looked down at the worn packaging in my hands as I tried to decide whether or not to have a smoke. It seemed like an incredibly difficult decision through the thick haze of intoxication.

"I didn't know you smoked," her voice sent chills up and down my spine making my cheeks grow even redder. I hated that she had that kind of power over me, but this was Hermione Granger - she had power over everyone. I turned my head to look at her standing next to me in a dark red coat, her hands shoved into her pockets as she watched me in fascination.

"Not very often," I responded mildly and shoved the pack back in my coat, "Only when drunk."

"Oh," there was a brief silence and she took her gaze from me to look out for the group of witches huddled a few meters away from them with a different kind of smile on her face. This smile was just as dangerous, tough, and intimidating. It was one of those smiles that said 'I know something that you don't' and the way she wore it was extremely convincing. 

"Strange," she murmured in a soft hum, her attention never leaving the group and their never ending clicks. "Well, aren't you going to ask me what's strange, Draco?"

I refused to let her twirl me into this kind of tizzy. I refuse to let her pull the strings of my emotion and hormones with her velvety voice, her gentle gaze, and her confident stance. I refuse to let my heart jump and my tongue stumble over the words I needed to say in response. She isn't some kind of goddess - she's Hermione freaking Granger.

"What's strange?"

She stared back at me, her brown eyes locking with mine. 

"How we've yet to really meet."

"We have met before," I couldn't help the confusion in my voice.

She smiled in a way that a teacher smiles at her student for coloring an animal the wrong color, "Not really. I mean, I know who you are and you know who I am and we've spoken in passing, but I don't really know anything about you and you surely know nothing about except probably the things you read on paper."

Her smile shifted and it would've been imperceptible if I haven't been paying strict attention. She was no longer smiling at me in some kind of patronizing demeanor, but rather in a manner that suggests she wanted to eat me up like I was some kind dessert after delectable entree.

I felt uneasy but also strangely drawn to her presence. There was an electricity between the two of us that I was not sure existed or was part of my imagination from the number of scotches I had. 

I licked my lips and resisted taking a step closer to her, "There's not much to know."

"About yourself or about me?"

"Either."

"That's quite presumptuous of you, Mister Malfoy. I happen to be a very intriguing woman."

"In what ways?" I cocked an eyebrow in response

"In all ways," she said in a hushed tone as her lips puckered into a smile.

I studied her, loss for words, and tried to figure out how this woman was able to spin me up into this mess. Perhaps if i wasn't so intoxicated, she wouldn't have been able to do it so easily. I didn't want to admit that perhaps she was just that good at getting what she wanted, at making people feel special and using that to her advantage. 

She's watching me steadily still with that puckered smile and her all-knowing eyes. She knew she had me backed into a corner and she enjoyed the accomplishment. 

The car pulled up in front of us then I took a few seconds to regain my composure before opening the door. She had turned to head back inside, her work done for the evening. I was about to duck inside the car when I paused.

"Granger," she looked over her shoulder at me, amusement sparkling in her eyes, "Get in."

Her dangerous smile, the one that melted worlds and knocked down walls, beamed into existence on her face as she slipped into the backseat of the car. I followed her soon after and all that was left were the shutter clicks of cameras. Blaise is probably gonna throw a fit when morning comes.


	2. The Wager

"Wow, you're really horrible at this."

"Oh, shut up and just put it in."

"Don't rush me. You can't rush Perfection."

"Draco, that's the whole point of the game."

This wasn't what I expected when I invited her. If I was completely being honest, I was expecting something that involved little to no clothing and perhaps a bit (or a lot even) of alcohol. It would've been such a smooth transition, especially as we went to her hotel room instead of my flat. She was so inviting, so warm and playing so coy and every time she moves near me, I could smell her subtle perfume and enticing at the same time. She was enchanting, alluring, magnificent. She was something I've never experienced before.

Even if we were just playing the stupid Perfection game that ticked away until your death before tossing yellow plastic pieces in your face, causing anxiety. I rotated one of the pieces and started to drop it in when it popped and threw the pieces up. Hermione laughed the kind of laugh that shook cores and caused smiles to spread.

We were situated situated in the floor of her hotel room. She had taken off her heels, but was still in her evening gown. Her opera gloves were discarded on one of the end tables that was placed along the wall. She was leaning on one hand, the other fiddling with pieces of the game and she looked relaxed and radiant. I was seated opposite her with my legs crossed, my back against the couch to support as I failed miserable at the childhood game that haunted me.

"I give up on this bloody game," there was a pout to my voice, but I didn't care. I tossed the piece I was holding at her and she rolled her eyes before picking it up out of her lap and setting it among the others.

"Why'd you have it anyway?" I asked her, cocking a brow.

She began to put it away, taking her time in placing the pieces back in their designated slots. Her eyes were focused on the board, her face relaxed though there was obviously something turning her mind, some sort of clockwork that was making her brain tick. Eventually, she shrugged and looked up at me, her hand pausing with a cross piece over its spot.

"I refuse to grow up."

The answer was brutally honest and the way she said it only made it more painful. She smiled a little and resumed cleaning up the game. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Hermione Granger was this woman who had come so far in her life and it was all her own making. She's promiscuous yet she's still sincere. It was simultaneously refreshing and confusing.

"Why's that?" 

I couldn't help myself. I wanted her to elaborate. A part of me needed her to elaborate. She was such a mystery not only to me, but the world at large, and that made her so intriguing. She may be part of the Golden Trio but as years passed by, she made a name for herself. She had been right before, that I didn't really know her, but I wanted to.

"Because I've been forced to," she placed the last piece and began to box up the game completely. "In my career and personal life, I'm quite mature. But there are things I can hold onto that keep me young. Board games that I used to play, silly birthday hats, the feeling of opening presents on Christmas morning, all of these things are the things that I constantly hold on to. Otherwise, I'm just adrift in an ocean of sexual encounters and business meetings."

"I understand."

"Oh, you do?" Her gaze snapped to me now and there was something behind her brown eyes, determination or frustration or disbelief. I couldn't quite place the look. It was different, though. It wasn't soft or gentle or even kind. It seemed hard, almost angry.

"You understand, Draco?" She raised her left eyebrow.

"Well, yeah... I'm in the same boat, kind of..." 

The look didn't go away and I ended up fessing up, "No... I'm not in the same boat at all."

I was briefly amazed at how she could make me backtrack to quickly, but I couldn't focus on for too long as she was standing now and I scrambled to my feet to stand with her. I had a feeling that I upset her, pissed her off, and that didn't settle right in my stomach in the least. It was turning sour now as I watched her walk to the door and pull it open, standing on the side, an indicator that I was no longer welcome in her hotel room. I couldn't think of how I might have offended her. She was an enigma, something I couldn't figure out, something that I would die trying to figure out.

I turned to bid her good night just as she closed the door and I found myself staring at the dark wood for a few seconds before shaking my head and walking down the corridor. I was in the lobby waiting for my car when my phone rang. Expecting it to be Blaise. I pulled it out of my pocket with some grumbling under my breath. 

"Hello?"

"I have a proposition for you," a feminine voice greeted me. I held up my hand to stall the driver for a second and looked up to where Hermione's room was located. She was standing by the window, looking down at me, "365 days."

"Pardon?"

"365 days and we keep count."

"Of what, exactly?"

"How many people we've slept with," I didn't say anything. I tried to comprehend what she was saying, what she was implying or suggesting. Luckily, I didn't have to figure it out myself; "Look, we both know that tomorrow morning those tabloids are going to come out with our picture splashed across it like we're the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey."

"I'm not familiar with the muggle stuff you're talking about"

"Oh, poor you," I couldn't help the smirk, "Well, the point is, we're going to be the hot new story. People are going to speculate about what happened after we left and I can guarantee you none of them are going to be talking about your horrible skills at Perfection. So, I propose a little wager."

"I'm listening," though I did not like where this was heading.

"365 days, we keep count of how many people we've slept with and whoever has slept with the most by the end wins."

"Wins... What exactly?"

I could her the smile in her voice, the dangerous one that would be the undoing of me.

"The right to boast that we're better than the other."

She was competitive. I knew that. She didn't like losing, she liked being above everyone else, she liked being better than everyone else - at everything. Well, she's brightest witch of her age after all. My own promiscuity wasn't something I ever shied away from, but I never exalted it much either.

However, the idea that I could say that I was better than Hermione Granger at something is just too much to pass up.

"Alright then," I finally responded, "It's a wager. I propose we meet up once a month to compare tallies, though. Oh, and I think we should have a token from each one, that way we know neither of us are cheating."

"Fair enough. Starting tomorrow?"

"Ending in 365 days."

"Good night, Draco."

"Sweet dreams, Hermione."

The phone clicked off, the curtain moved close again. I was left standing in the cold, staring up at the window she had been moments before. I wasn't quite sure what just happened, but I knew I had my work cut out for me. With a slight shake of head, I climbed into the car and let it carry me away from the witch who was about to change my world completely.


	3. Cat & Mouse

It was by far the least romantic rendezvous I've ever been part of, but there wasn't meant to be any romance in this interaction. I couldn't remember her name, could barely even remember how she'd gotten my attention, but that wasn't necessary. I finished buttoning up my shirt as she pulled her skirt back up, wobbling a little on her stilettos. She was saying something, inanely chattering about something uninteresting. I put on a face of interest, though, and she was either too self-absorbed or I was a better actor than I thought because she just kept talking even after I reached past her to unlock the bathroom door.

"I'll call you," I flashed her a smile as I pulled open the door and held it for her. She smiled at me gleefully and ducked underneath my arm. As I stepped out after her, a voice made me stop in my tracks.

"No, he won't call you. So don't be waiting for it."

Hermione was leaning against the wall next to the door. She wore a simple pair of dark skinny jeans with a cropped off-shoulder top, giving me hint of her toned abdomen, and black heels. Her hair was curled loosely and pulled back with a barrette. She looked casual, relaxed, and gorgeous as usual. 

"That's the line he feeds all the girls. I'm still waiting for my phone call. Gosh, honey, I thought we had something special." Her red lips turned downward into a pout, causing my gaze to linger on them for a brief moment before the girl whose name I couldn't remember scoffed and stalked away. Hermione leaned to look around me and watched the girl go before turning back to me with a triumphant smile on her face.

"That was rude, Granger."

"Aw, but it was fun. She was kind of the bottom of the barrel anyway. You could've done so much better."

"Jealousy looks pretty decent on you." I smirked.

"Oh, I'm not jealous. I'm just painfully upset that you're making this far too easy for me," she pushed herself away from the wall and took a step closer to me. I could smell the sweet perfume she was wearing, my desire to touch her building up. "It is supposed to be a competition after all. Not much if you ask me."

"Well, I supposed it's a good thing I didn't ask you."

"Hmmm... maybe..." 

There was a lingering look between the two of us and then she was pushing past me gently, heading back to the main area of the pub. 

I reached out and grabbed her arm gently to stop her. I could feel her body heat radiating off her. I wanted to strip her shirt off her, wanted to caress her skin, see how smooth it was but instead I released her, though still standing close to her.

"Was there something else, Malfoy?"

"Yeah. What are you doing here? Are you stalking me? Because if you wanted me, all you had to do was ask."

Her smile was instantaneous and bright. It made me feel lighter just looking at it. I could bask in that smile for the rest of my days and be completely blissful. 

"I wouldn't have to ask. But no, I'm not stalking you. I'm in town looking for a house and I heard this pub so I decided to try it out. It just so happened that you were here, as well. I've actually been watching you flirt up that blondie for the past hour and when you two walked away, I figured you were adding a tally. So how many is that now?"

She threw this question over her shoulder, heading back down the corridor to the crowded pub. I turned on my heel to follow her, jogging a bit to catch up. She moved quickly through the crowd, bobbing and weaving this way and that, dodging men with full glasses of beer. She was graceful and smooth. She knew exactly which way to move her body.

She finally stopped at a high table and slid onto a seat. It seemed that she had been occupying a table not too far from me, but I had been so wrapped up earlier to notice. I mentally kicked myself and took the seat opposite her. She was watching me expectantly with one eyebrow arched and a small smile puckered in the corner of her lips. I shook my head, forcing myself to focus and pull my thoughts back to the moment; "I'm at fifteen."

"Not bad."

"Not bad? What are you at?"

"A bit more than fifteen," she glanced over her shoulder and caught the bartender's eye. With a shy smile and nod at the table, the bartender was pouring a pitcher of their best beer, and Hermione's attention was brought back to me and our conversation, "Then again, I don't put as much effort as you do apparently. You were really working that girl over. I didn't think you'd have to try so hard."

A pitcher was st between us and two glasses in front of each of us, Taylor thanked the bartender with another smile and began pouring us both a glass.

I took the glass from her and traced my fingertip along the condensation. Something twisted inside my stomach as she spoke of how easily she was able too hook guys. I had called her jealous earlier, but I was currently the one feeling jealousy coursing in my veins. I could feel her eyes on me, waiting for me to come back with a clever retort, but I was coming up empty. She nudged me under the table with her foot and I lifted my gaze to look at her again. It was the first time I'd seen her since the night of the Winter Ball and while she looked incredibly gorgeous that night, there was something about her that was more alluring now sitting across from me with minimal makeup and a casual outfit that accentuated her best features.

"Well," I cleared my throat and took a deep drink from my glass,"Maybe I just see it more of an art of sorts."

"That's pure bullshit, Draco. You see it like I do - a good lay. You just don't have to deal with the ramifications of manipulating people into bed with you."

"I'm sorry?"

"You know... You chat up girls to get them to shag you and you're suave, skilled, charming even. I chat up guys to get them in bed and I'm a manipulative bitch, a woman who uses her wiles for evil. See where I'm going with this?"

I did see where she was going with it and she was right, I didn't have to worry about how I'd be portrayed, but I was under the impression that she didn't really care all that much about it either.

She held eye contact with me and I was struck by her confidence. Most girls when talking about how they were wrongly portrayed would look away, look sad, try to appear vulnerable but not Hermione. She was confident. This wasn't a woman who had given up because people ran her into the ground, this was a woman who had embraced the image she received, spun it around and made it into something that worked for her - something that benefited her. She's not afraid to own up to it and that was one of the things that made her so attractive.

"Tell me, Draco," she said suddenly, leaning closer to me from across the table, "How would you charm me into your bed?" Quickly shaking my head, I took another long drink of my beer. "Oh, come on. I'm interested on hearing what line you'd use on me."

"I'm not playing into this."

"I can handle it," the way she was saying it was convincing. There wasn't a question in her tone. She was positive she could handle whatever I threw at her, but it wasn't her that I was worried about. 

"Don't make me beg, Draco."

"Oh, I might like that a bit too much."

"Tsk, tsk, Malfoy, I don't count as a tally."

"Who says I'd use you as such?"

"Interesting. So you're saying you'd sleep with me... just to sleep with me?"

"No," I shook my head, "I'm saying I'd sleep with you because I want to, because you're fucking attractive as hell and because right now it's taking every fucking bit of will power I have to not practically jump your bones."

She raised her eyebrows and let a smile cross her face as if she were actually contemplating letting me do just that.

A part of me hoped that she was, but there was something behind that smile that told me she isn't going to. She's playing a game with me and it was something similar to cat and mouse. The worst part was, I enjoyed it. I would probably continue to let her do it for as long as she wanted to.

"Well, honey, that's not going to happen tonight. Tell you what, you win this bet and maybe you won't have to hold back. For now, I'm going to get myself another tally in the form of that gorgeous bartender," Hermione slipped off the chair and leaned around the table to brush her lips along my cheek lightly with a kiss. She whispered in my ear, the words ghosting over my skin and bringing chills down my spine, " See you around, Draco."

She was walking away from me to the bar, her eyes set on the bartender. Jealousy reared its ugly head at me again and I scowled, dragging her barely touched beer toward me and downing it before finishing off the rest of the pitcher.


End file.
